Red Poppies
by Sarryn
Summary: (A/U) A man bears the weight of a wife and children murdered in an obscure ritual. A young woman dreams of a field of red poppies. (Kaoru/Saitou)
1. The City

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of RK, but I do own this story and its plot/contents. If you want to archive this on your site, please let me know through an email or IM.

**Note:** I will not accept any flames, however, comments and criticisms are welcome. I am under the assumption that anyone reading this has a clear understanding of the difference between flames and criticisms so I don't have to explain it. Here are some reason why I don't accept flames: **1) **they generally include an attack on the author's character without regard to previous or future works that may or may not be in the same vein, **2)** not only are they childish, but they make the writer of them sound immature and not old enough to read the material contained herein, **3)** flames help neither the author nor the flamer to improve the work and, therefore, are not constructive, **4)** if something is so offensive as to elicit the impulse to flame then it is better forgotten and not dwelled upon, **5) **you waste time writing it and I waste time reading and then deleting it, **6)** it won't do you any good to point out my lack of scruples, morals, intelligence, sanity, etc., because not only don't I care, but I won't listen.

In short, review, but no flames. I'd love to hear your opinions, but I do not want to be unnecessarily insulted. If you don't like it, please leave.

Much Love,

S-girl

~ Red Poppies ~

Click

"I'm in love with a man who doesn't know."

"Have you told him?"

"I can't. He…I can't reach him no matter how hard I try."

"Why not?"

"He was married before…"

"What happened?"

"She died…in an accident. But he loved—loves—her. She'll always be there between us. He feels guilty about her death. He blames himself, but she…She was so much more than me."

"Why do you say that?"

"She was everything I'm not. She was graceful, poised, demure, feminine…breathtaking. He still knows what she smelled like. He still remembers! White plums…I hate them now."

"Why do you feel antagonized by a dead woman?"

"Because she's in his mind and heart. There's no room in him for me. I feel like he's always unconsciously comparing us, and I'm always coming up short."

"Has he said or hinted that?"

"No, he's always polite and self-effacing. But I know. She's there, always there. If only…God, why did it have to be him? There are so many other men in this world, but there he is…He's older than me too."

"Really?"

"He's older than me by a lot. Maybe I'm too young for him. He probably likes older, more mature women, like his dead wife."

"Have you been attracted to older men in the past?"

"Are you trying to relate this to my dad?"

"Why would you think that?"

"Just because he died when I was young doesn't mean I'm seeking some sort of paternal guidance."

"I never said that."

"But you were thinking that!"

"Please calm down."

"I'm not."

"Let's change the subject. Have you had any dreams lately?"

"No…sort of. I had one. I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?"

"It was weird and it scared me."

"It might help to talk about it."

"I don't want to think about it."

"That's fine. We'll talk about it next time."

Click

~

Click

"Are you ready to talk about your dream today?"

"I guess…I can't really remember it now…"

"Just tell me what you do remember."

"I…I was in a field of flowers, red poppies, and I was laying on my back looking at the poppies around me."

"Go on."

"The poppies were sort of swaying like there was a breeze or something, but I couldn't feel it. And they were bleeding…"

"Bleeding?"

"I know flowers don't bleed, at least not red blood, but these did. Blood kept dripping down their petals, and I knew that's why they were red."

"How did you know that."

"I don't know, I just felt that, sensed it."

"Anything else?"

"There was something else there, something dark. I…I…It was scary. I don't want to think about it."

"Did this darkness do anything?"

"Yes. No. I don't…It shined. It shined like…like…That!"

"So it was metal?"

"Yes. It was cold and dark and it shined like metal. And I found myself above the field and not above the field."

"How?"

"I saw my…my body laying on my—its—back staring up at me and I was staring down at it. It was like my mind had floated free and was just sort of hovering there."

"Like an out of body experience?"

"Exactly! And I floated there all confused for a while, then the dark moved and shined and…and…the poppies were white."

"White?"

"Pure white, like fresh snow or bleached paper. But some weren't…I remember some were still red and bleeding. And my body was face down."

"How did it get that way?"

"I don't know, but that's what I remember…"

"Is that all you remember?"

"There was something else…something about the poppies and my body…I don't remember! I don't remember!"

"That's alright, maybe you will by next session."

"Okay."

Click

~

Click

"I drew a picture."

"Really?"

"I remembered that thing about the poppies."

"And you drew it?"

"The poppies, the red ones, were arranged in a pattern. I drew it. See."

"That's quite good. You did this from just your memory?"

"I didn't look in any books."

"I believe you."

"Have you seen it before?"

"I don't believe so, but then, of course, I'm not well versed in sigils and patterns from around the world."

"Oh."

"So the poppies were in this design. What about your body?"

"My body?"

"You mentioned something about it last visit."

"It was in the middle of the pattern, but the pattern went over it. It continued."

"So you were covered in poppies?"

"It, and no. The pattern wasn't poppies on the body. The dark carved the pattern into it, and it poured blood, like rivers or streams, just gushing, but not overflowing. There was the blood and the flesh and the carvings. And it was there, shining. And the poppies were moving and bleeding…and…and…and…"

Click

* * *

"I'm going to the living room." He couldn't open his eyes, but he could hear her gentle voice. Cool fingers brushed his forehead. "The children are already there. We'll be waiting." He had to tell her no. She couldn't go there. If she did…

~

He stood before the small house. Each window stared at him like a giant black eye, lifeless, dead. No lights…why hadn't she turned on the lights?

"Tokio?" The door opened, swinging back upon silent hinges. Darkness opened its mouth.

~

The children…Red…

"Tokio!"

* * *

With deliberate care the young woman closed the oaken door. She paused, hand on handle, and listened to the sound of papers rustling and the silver tape recorder being rewound. A phone rang with shrill urgency and soon a soft baritone rumbled through the door. Kamiya Kaoru stepped away and walked briskly down the undecorated hallway. She cast a glance at her watch out of habit for there was no place she had to be, and likely there never would be. Having a mild case of insanity tended to clear one's social calendar rather quickly. Absently she fingered the pale line running along the underside of her right arm. Therapy was helping some, but not enough.

* * *

"The City has over one thousands inhabitants. It's completely self-sufficient. If we went to war and lost, it would probably still be standing. However, very few residents ever leave the outermost perimeter. The vast majority of the population has some mental disorder of some manner. The most severe are kept in the center while the others, who have depression and other less serious diseases, are allowed to work and recreate within the borders. There is a permanent, mentally stable staff of about three hundred plus who run and maintain the city and its inhabitants. We also have a fully functional police and fire department, as well as a first rate educational program, which includes preschool to college level classes. 

"All of the residents marked as patients are required to attend three therapy sessions a week. Those who don't are placed under twenty-four-hour surveillance for a week, unless they have a justified cause such as sickness. There have never been any successful escape attempts made by any of the patients, and only a few have tried. A high percentage of the population has voluntarily come to live here because they couldn't function normally in the outside world.

"Here the concern is about mental and physical well fare. The City doesn't coddle its inhabitants, but it doesn't reject them either. All in all, it is a true haven for the mentally ill."

* * *

A black BMW drove down peaceful streets lined with vaguely similar houses and willows with artistically drooping branches. A few residents watched it go by with interest, as cars were a rarity in the City. It soon passed the houses and entered the heart of the city-state. Skyscrapers pierced the sky and thick blocks of apartments shouldered in on either side. Neon signs flickered cheerfully against a gray backdrop of buildings. The car pulled to a screeching halt before a building that seemed to be made entirely of tinted glass. The driver's side door opened and a man dressed in a charcoal gray suit stepped out. He entered the building without a glance to either side. Saitou Hajime was there on business. 

~

A bored secretary glanced up from the tedium of typing and gave the stranger a mildly interested glance. The man's amber eyes took note of the 'no smoking' sign displayed prominently on the counter before her. His mouth curved upward in cold amusement before he calmly pulled one white cylinder from a gold plated case. Watching the woman's brows knit in blatant irritation, he lit the cigarette. The woman cleared her throat loudly and gazed pointedly at the sign. 

"Excuse me, sir," she said with ill-concealed animosity, "This building is non-smoking only. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"The director asked me to come here."

"That doesn't matter, sir. It is against company policy to allow _anybody_ to smoke in this facility. Please either extinguish that cigarette or leave." He took a long drag and expelled the smoky air towards the ceiling with a thoughtful sigh. With a slight nod he walked towards the elevator.

"Tell the director that Saitou Hajime is coming to see him." The pressed the up button and waited patiently for the elevator to come. The secretary struggled to move around the expansive desk in order to stop him. With a cheerful ding the doors slid open.

"You can't—" The doors closed. "Dammit."

* * *

Please review with any questions or comments, but I would be most appreciative if you reigned in your urge to flame me into oblivion. This story can be linked to most satirical writings such as "The Handmaid's Tale" and "Fahrenheit 451", though its quality is far below those of the professional writers. The setting is on a slightly skewed earth about this time period, maybe a decade or so in the future. 


	2. Inside Walls

****

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of RK, but I do own this story and its plot/contents. If you want to archive this on your site, please let me know through an email or IM.

****

Note: I will not accept any flames, however, comments and criticisms are welcome. I am under the assumption that anyone reading this has a clear understanding of the difference between flames and criticisms so I don't have to explain it. Here are some reason why I don't accept flames: **1) **they generally include an attack on the author's character without regard to previous or future works that may or may not be in the same vein, **2)** not only are they childish, but they make the writer of them sound immature and not old enough to read the material contained herein, **3)** flames help neither the author nor the flamer to improve the work and, therefore, are not constructive, **4)** if something is so offensive as to elicit the impulse to flame then it is better forgotten and not dwelled upon, **5) **you waste time writing it and I waste time reading and then deleting it, **6)** it won't do you any good to point out my lack of scruples, morals, intelligence, sanity, etc., because not only don't I care, but I won't listen.

In short, review, but no flames. I'd love to hear your opinions, but I do not want to be unnecessarily insulted. If you don't like it, please leave.

Much Love,

S-girl

~ Red Poppies ~

"Loneliness is the human condition. We are alone, and forsaken by any greater or divine power.

"There is no God. We killed Him with our unrelenting search for truth, yet we hold His emaciated corpse up upon a pedestal of worship and call ourselves virtuous. 

"Some say that they want to be alone. In truth, they only want what they think as being alone. They don't understand yet that everyone already is alone. We can fool ourselves and surround ourselves with others, all strangers in essence. If humanity ever realizes just how isolated each individual is, then it will be the end.

"So humans huddle together in ignorantly proud cities. Metal and glass tower over the defiled bodies of ancient forests. Moving containers of pollution barrel down desolate swathes of darkness beneath the coruscating of a million imprisoned suns.

"God may be dead, but this is the age of loneliness, of humanity."

***

An obese man reclined with carefully posed nonchalance in a black leather chair. The white linen of his shirt strained across the rolls of flesh with determination. Sausage fingers, each nail a perfectly filed oval, gripped a gold plated pen and tapped it thoughtfully against the polished top of the oak desk. Sharp black eyes picked over the insolently calm man standing in the doorway. With a slight inclination of his balding head he beckoned the visitor inside. One soft hand stabbed at a chair and the visitor accepted it with a cynical smile. 

"Saitou Hajime, welcome." The director's voice rumbled out in a sort of gurgling baritone, yet each syllable rang with implacable authority. Saitou nodded briefly all the while calmly drawing upon his cigarette. The director's eyes narrowed briefly. "This is a no-smoking facility."

"So I was told." The director shrugged and dropped the subject with resigned annoyance. Saitou exhaled and watched the grayish smoke rise in lacey curls to the ceiling. 

"Candidly speaking, I don't want you here. I've read your file, many times, and I feel that, due to the circumstances surrounding the _incident_, you are not fit for this position. However, the Board deems you suitable."

"I must remember to thank them."

"We service the mentally incapable, but our staff must be comprised of individuals free from mental problems."

"Of course," Saitou replied coolly. 

"You came home one night to find your entire family slaughtered. Most would say that experience would irreparably damage the mental condition, of which we are very concerned about here," the director murmured as he eyed the amber-eyed man with probing shrewdness. The visitor continued to smirk coolly.

"I understand." 

"However, you have passed all the evaluations and tests, and I have no choice but to concede my own opinion in the face of the Board's decision. I welcome you to your new position as Head Officer of the City's police department."

"Thank you." With a nod Saitou stood and walked calmly towards the door.

"One more thing, Saitou." The director clicked the pen authoritatively against the desktop. "I know the truth. You have all the privileges allotted to your position, but no more. The Outside government will not find anything wrong with this institute. No matter how many plants they place here, we are impregnable."

"I shall keep that in mind."

"Act with caution. We value our privacy."

"Of course."

~

The secretary gave him a dirty look as he stepped out of the elevator. Saitou nodded goodbye and exited the glass building. Outside a watery sun rode between drifts of gray clouds and illuminated the utilitarian desolation. A few people moved slowly or briskly along the sidewalks. His car was the only one parked next to a building. In fact, it was the only one he had seen so far. Apparently the City did not trust its permanent inhabitants behind the wheel. 

He tossed the much-contested cigarette to the unnaturally clean sidewalk and crushed it with the toe of his boot. The white paper stood out like a downed albino elephant against the pitted gray of the concrete. He stared at it, at its audacious presence, and felt a grain of morbid triumph. Something ethereal and pleasing existed in the destruction of artificial perfection. 

~

The young woman stood at the crosswalk and waited patiently for the walk signal to come on. Saitou watched with puzzled amusement. His light was red and no other cars were present, if any others even existed; yet she continued to wait upon the blue walk figure to appear. As if sensing his eyes, she turned and peered through the tinted glass. 

Then the walk signal flashed on and she walked across.

***

A car…Kaoru hadn't seen one of those in a long time.

~

Kamiya Kaoru, Case file 119KK:

Type: 97a, 12j, 333r

Mother: Deceased, file not found

Occupation: Unknown

Father: Deceased, file encrypted

Occupation: Police officer.

Siblings: N/A

Guardian: Deceased, file encrypted

Relationship: Great aunt

Occupation: N/A

History:

Father killed while on duty when patient was 15 years of age. Great aunt gained guardianship. Aunt died of massive stroke two months afterwards. Patient sent to orphanage in [~~~~]. Attempted to take own life. Sent to the City's Center for Disturbed Youth. At eighteen the patient was released to the City proper. Still in residence as of most recent update.

Mental Analysis:

On arrival the patient was incapable of forming closer interpersonal relationships until the successful completion of three years of youth therapy administered by Himura Kenshin. The patient still suffers from a debilitating fear of abandonment (attributed to the sudden deaths of father and great aunt), sleep walking and nightmares. Current therapy has almost cured the tendency to sleepwalk. Further sessions required.

Possible Release Date: Unknown

~

The doctor could cognate all he wanted, but Kaoru knew she was in love. She wasn't looking for some paternal replacement for a father too soon taken. She just…

He had been her youth therapist. He had been the first person she could trust not to leave her since her aunt's death. He had promised not to leave, and he kept it. A small smile crossed her face. He kept his promise.

Perhaps…No, there was always _her._ Was it wrong to feel threatened by a woman long dead? The doctor seemed to think so. What did he know?

She raised her head and sought some divine answer in the unblemished gray of the sky. Was she happy? Certainly not, but maybe some glimmering edge of contentment kept her remaining sanity in check. She lived with him now, though he treated her like a younger, slightly helpless sister. If forced to choose between that and the unknown, then she would not beg for more. 

***

The sable wings of night brushed darkness across the gray blandness of the City. With perfect synchronization the sulfur colored streetlights flickered on. No cars sped by. No people promenaded down the sidewalk. The City was dead after sundown. The curfew for all residents was at sundown. No patients out after dark, no exceptions. 

A thin line of gray smoke trailed upward from the lit end of a white cigarette. Saitou Hajime exhaled slowly. Statistics said that nicotine product related deaths were on the rise. Perhaps, one day, his single pleasure would blink him out of existence. He had always assumed something dramatic and bloody would lay claim to his life, but lung cancer and heart disease was a close second. 

No exceptions.

A pale wraith of a figure drifted down the street past his tightly closed window. He watched it with heavy-lidded, amber eyes. 

***

"In the early stages of the City's planning, all resident houses were on timed locking system. Each house would be locked down at sunset and then unlock at precisely five thirty in the morning. However, this proved to be a fire safety hazard as [Data corruption] 

"Thereafter, a curfew has been instated and rigidly upheld. No further incidents have been recorded. The City is proud to announce that, after a few errors, all systems are fully functional, guaranteeing comfort and help for all inhabitants."

***

Ghosts were fictitious imaginings of the young, mentally infirm, and money hungry mediums. Despite every advance in technology, no indisputable, uncontestable evidence for paranormal activity had been recorded. With the facts lying so plainly on the metaphorical table, Saitou Hajime felt no inclination to believe the pale apparition to be anything but a patient who had, for some mysterious reason, decided to break curfew and incur the City's wrath. 

Stubbing the cigarette out in an ashtray, he stood and walked over to the door. He really didn't need to bother on the one hand, it being his off shift, but on the other hand he never believed in 'off duty.'

A cool autumn wind swept past his face and swirled into the comfortably warm house. Checking to make sure he didn't accidentally lock himself out, Saitou stepped outside. The City truly was dead after sundown. No lights glowed in any house. The night was completely silent, completely still, save the breeze and ethereal figure meandering in an unsteady path down the sidewalk. 

Something about the City prevented, or at least seemed to prevent, the raising of one's voice. Not finding a raised voice necessary, Saitou sprinted with controlled deliberation to the figure's side. 

The wraith turned into a petite girl, pale of skin with a delicate, heart-shaped face. Long black hair hung in twisted knots down the girl's back. She stopped suddenly and turned to face the man. Wide, indigo eyes stared vacantly at him for a moment before sliding close. Without a sound the girl toppled backwards. He caught her with the minimum of motion.

~

It was common knowledge among staff and residents that the residents each had their own identification code tattooed at the nape of neck. It looked like a barcode found on most purchasable items, but, instead of reading the price, a scanner would read name and address of the resident, as well as all relevant medical information. Apparently the staff in charge of tattooing had taken it upon themselves to be creative in regards to the girl resting on Hajime Saitou's couch. 

For the life of him he couldn't find the barcode on the back of her neck. Shrugging back exasperation he checked her pale wrists, noting the puckered white lines running along the veins on each, and ankles. He lit a cigarette and scrutinized the girl thoughtfully. If he were a bored staff member, where would he put the code? If the person had been a male, he could just guess where. He would have to have a talk with the head of Records about this slip up, or practical joke. 

He was unable to call in for a pickup until he could identify the resident, and without the barcode he couldn't identify the unconscious girl. His quiet evening had turned into a rather irritating inconvenience. Resting the cigarette in one of the numerous ashtrays dispersed about his house, he decided for a thorough check of the girl's skin was in order. He knelt beside and rolled up the left pant leg of her moon spotted pajamas. Idly he wondered how old she was. Finding no tattoo he tried the other leg, pushing the cloth high up her thigh. Still nothing. 

He sat back and frowned slightly. This was proving to be an exasperating game, though his face never revealed the fact. Perhaps this was some sort of twisted test on the part of the Director. That wouldn't surprise him in the least. The unpleasant, obese man seemed the sort to enjoy making hell out of the lives of people he disliked. Saitou grinned knowing he had entered that vaunted list without trying. However, having an enemy that high up would prove a minor hindrance in course of his extra-professional duties in the City. The Outside was quite determined to mine out the secrets of the City and it's Board. And Saitou was the miner.

A tight, arrogant smile curved his lips briefly. He took a quick drag from his cigarette and decided to investigate the abdominal region of the girl. If anyone saw him, he would have a difficult time explaining. To any passerby it would appear he was about to molest the girl. He grinned coldly at the thought. He had no desire to and nobody dared to walk outside in the City, save, apparently, the dark-haired girl. Casually he pushed up the silky pajama top and inspected the unmarked stomach. Unmarked. Damn. He would have to investigate higher. 

Before he could the girl's blue eyes snapped open and she stared at him in inarticulate shock. Then she raised one small hand and slapped him. His breath hissed out and he gently touched his stinging cheek. He should have seen that coming he thought bemusedly. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the girl shrieked in a particularly shrill voice. She clutched her arms protectively over her chest and curled up into a ball as if she expected him to ravish her at any moment. He straightened and gave her a wry smirk.

"What were you doing walking around past curfew?"

"What?" 

Saitou gestured towards the darkened night beyond his windows as he picked up his cigarette. The girl followed his every move with animal wariness. With a suspicious scowl in his direction she turned to glance through the windows. Her already pale skin turned a shade whiter and she jumped up.

"Oh my god!" she shrieked. 

"Indeed."

"Wait…Who are you? What am I doing here?"

"I am the new Head Officer of the City's police department. And I found you outside," he replied with cold amusement. She glared at him. "May I ask, for convenience sake, where your ID code is?"

"ID code?"

"I was looking for it when you misinterpreted my actions and reacted violently." She flushed and clenched her small hands. He could read the embarrassed anger flooding her petite frame. She had no control over her emotions, or very little. 

"It's on my back," she grated out. "Can I just call my guardian?" He looked her over carefully.

"Guardian? How old are you?"

"That's none of your business! And can I?" He cocked his head to one side and thoughtfully inhaled the acrid, nicotine filled smoke. "Please?" He nodded towards the phone. He would let her handle this unless he felt the need for intervention. The sooner she was gone, the sooner he could continue his evening without distraction. 

He watched her quickly dial her guardian's number and listened to her hysterics-tinged voice talk with the person on the other line. He exhaled slowly. He had never developed much patience when it came to little girls. Silently he hoped her guardian would pick her up. Funny, he had figured her to be at least eighteen. 

****

Please Review. I sincerely hoped you enjoyed the story. If you feel you must flame me or die a horribly painful death, then please direct all flames to SylverSylph@aol.com as I will delete them if left in a review as per my policy. 


	3. Of God

****

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of RK, but I do own this story and its plot/contents. If you want to archive this on your site, please let me know through an email or IM.

****

Note: I will not accept any flames, however, comments and criticisms are welcome. I am under the assumption that anyone reading this has a clear understanding of the difference between flames and criticisms so I don't have to explain it. Here are some reason why I don't accept flames: **1) **they generally include an attack on the author's character without regard to previous or future works that may or may not be in the same vein, **2)** not only are they childish, but they make the writer of them sound immature and not old enough to read the material contained herein, **3)** flames help neither the author nor the flamer to improve the work and, therefore, are not constructive, **4)** if something is so offensive as to elicit the impulse to flame then it is better forgotten and not dwelled upon, **5) **you waste time writing it and I waste time reading and then deleting it, **6)** it won't do you any good to point out my lack of scruples, morals, intelligence, sanity, etc., because not only don't I care, but I won't listen.

In short, review, but no flames. I'd love to hear your opinions, but I do not want to be unnecessarily insulted. If you don't like it, please leave.

Much Love,

S-girl

~ Red Poppies ~

"The world was different decades ago, or at least that's what the old people mumble, but who really listens to them?"

~

"In a world falling into moral and mental decay, the Outside found itself burdened under a population of individuals deemed unsuited for daily interaction between others considered 'normal'. Jails, asylums and other such institutions found themselves unable to handle the overflow of unsavory societal elements. In response to this growing problem a group of wealthy investors, known simply as the Board, proposed a plan.

"Instead of a multitude of institutions scattered across landmasses, with very little communication between, the Board introduced two fully autonomous city states. The State would be a criminal correction facility that also functioned as a work camp. The City would be an asylum for the mentally ill and persons that posed no physical threat but were unwanted just the same. 

"The State occupies a two mile radius of dry land in the [~~~] desert. Currently it employs fifteen hundred police and medical personnel. The inmates, all of who have been tagged with electronic chips attached to the spinal cord, are not permitted within fifty feet of the surrounding perimeter. If any inmate passes the mark then an a single is automatically sent to the chip, which, in turn, sends and electric shock through the spinal column and into the brain. Most often this leads to partial or whole paralysis, and sometimes death. No prisoners have ever escaped.

"The City~~~[File transfer interrupted]

***

The Kamiya Kaoru picked at the armrest of the unsettling new couch. She could feel the man's unnatural eyes on her. He was too patient, too still. She didn't like that. He made her nervous. And he smoked. The smell hung in thick ropes. It leeched into her clothing, hair and skin. She could feel its acrid taint creeping down her throat and singing her lungs. 

"Do you mind?" she hissed waving away the malodorous scent. He stared at her with the barest trace of cold amusement. 

"No." Blue eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Well, I do." He inhaled deeply and exhaled with deliberate audacity. "Jerk." Sniffing in outrage she pointedly turned away from him and stared out the window. She wouldn't let him pick away at her nerves. She wouldn't let him get under her skin. 

"How old are you?" She cut him a glare over one haughty shoulder.

"That's none of your business."

"Actually, it is," he replied with a dark laugh. "I am in charge of security of this facility, after all."

"So? Is that supposed to impress me or something?"

"Perhaps it is a warning." His rough baritone pressed into her ears and sent off a thrill of warnings in her mind. Slowly, like one facing a dangerous animal, she turned. He hadn't moved, though the cigarette was almost a smoking stub. "Minors are to be secured inside the juvenile facilities in the north side of the City. Those who are eighteen or older, if deemed mentally stable enough, are permitted to reside in apartments or neighborhoods monitored by the City. Minors here do not have guardians, save the staff at the juvenile center. Adults who need guardians remain at the Core Center.

"Either you've managed to circumvent the security protocols of the juvenile center during your somnolent wanderings. Or…?" He trailed off and looked at her with arrogant, in her opinion, patience. She knew the type of man he was. He was the kind who expected answers and got them. 

"I'm eighteen, as if that's any of your damn business!"

"I believe you've stated that opinion several times," he remarked laconically. "In any case, if you are eighteen, as you claim, why do you have a 'guardian'?"

"I just do. Is that so incomprehensible that you must badger me to death about it? I have a guardian and I'm eighteen. So what?"

"I simply wasn't aware that such proceedings were allowed." He ground the cigarette in an ashtray.

"I guess I'm an exception, then," she said with an indignant shrug. His gaze turned thoughtful as he extracted another cancer-stick from a gold case. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and restrained several choice comments on his vulgarity. 

"But why?"

"Maybe I'm special. Maybe there's some huge conspiracy out there and me having a guardian is just the beginning of some larger, whole-scale invasion by evil entities from outer space. Maybe it's God's way of making up for all the crap in my life!" A deep flush suffused her pale cheeks as she came to the end of her short tirade. Releasing a shaky breath she tried to force the tension from her straining body. She had the most irrational desire to punch the man in the face and watch all his dry humor evanesce. 

"Do you believe in God?" His question derailed her fury with such ruthless efficiency that she was left scrabbling for comprehension.

"What?"

"Do you believe in God?" he repeated with pointed enunciation. She bristled with renewed wrath. 

"What kind of stupid question is that?" He shrugged and lit the offensive cigarette. She watched the orange light flicker about the odd angles of his face. He looked predatory. 

"You seem disinclined to be civil," the man observed as he took a deep breath from his cigarette. "If you don't act more mature, you'll be confused for a child."

"Who cares? I'm legally insane. What's one more thing?"

"Legally?"

"It's why I'm still here."

"Don't you mean clinically." She snorted derisively. 

"The only way to keep us here is to be deemed legally insane. That means they can keeps us till we're not crazy anymore. If a person isn't able to represent him- or herself legally, then the person is considered legally insane. It basically has the power of attorney over us."

"I see."

"Didn't you know that, mister Head of Police?" He afforded her a mild, disapproving glare before his cynical countenance resumed. 

"Apparently I am not as well informed as I would like."

"Isn't that n—" A brisk knocking at the door cut off Kaoru's caustic response. Eagerly she bounced up from the couch and dashed towards the door. "Kenshin!"

***

Ten years rushed by with the force of fate's wrecking ball. Scattered images of blood, betrayal and simmering distrust crackled through the air between two immovable monoliths. And through it all, the old wounds and scars poignantly pierces, a grudging respect hummed. 

"Himura."

"Saitou." The taller man puffed contemplatively on his cigarette as a wellspring of memories, some filled with blood rage and some relaxed, spewed forth behind his eyes. 

"Who would have thought, hmm?" Saitou grinned slowly, predatorily. "You're this girl's 'guardian'?" The redhead cut a quick glance between the ecstatic girl and the other man. 

"I am." He could see the questions burning in the shorter man's violet eyes. What had he been up to? He toyed with the idea of playing with the self-righteous bastard, but declined in favor of relieving himself of the girl as soon as possible. 

"I found her sleep walking down the street. She's broken curfew."

"I'll handle this," Himura Kenshin grated out. Saitou nodded sagely. 

"I'm sure you will."

"Let's go, Kenshin," the girl, he still hadn't asked her name, whined pulling at the redhead's sweatshirt. 

"Alright," he murmured as he bestowed a tiredly affectionate smile upon her. Saitou noticed how a pleased flush would spread across her pale cheeks every time he addressed her. She was addicted to Himura. Obviously she had formed an unhealthy attachment to the man. Saitou didn't particularly care, but he noted it out of an ingrained habit. 

The observation of a single person, no matter how insignificant he or she seemed at the time, had always proved to be his greatest asset. One never knew when an overlooked individual would prove to be the keystone in a case. Small gestures, facial ticks, intonations, the very evidence of the mind's workings in the physical were invaluable. What he did went beyond reading people and their actions. Through his careful scrutiny he had developed a sort of prescience when it came to the human animal. One could learn more from watching a criminal lie through his or her teeth, then by all the tortures ever invented. The ingenious part about it was that the person being watched had no idea. 

"Perhaps we'll talk later. Catch up on old times and all that," Saitou suggested with deceptive mildness as the other man turned away with the intention of forgoing the civil act of saying goodbye. 

"Perhaps." The simmering rage in Himura's voice almost caused Saitou to issue a mocking chuckle. However, the lupine-faced man could mask all emotions under a mask crafted for the moment. Himura had no such talent. His emotions pushed forth in bold strokes across his effeminate face. He was an open book waiting to be read, unless the thrall of fury overtook his easy-going complacency. 

Saitou had only been privy to one such event, and he craved a second encounter. The predator in him sensed the presence of a rival that had to be bested. Unfortunately, that rival was locked deeply within a cage of self-loathing and surprisingly rigid control. Unable to enjoy the full wrath of the redhead, Saitou had to content himself with poking the beast pacing inside the man with an occasional, well-directed verbal barb.

~

Night fully enveloped the City and brushed feathered wings against the resisting streetlights. The glowing, ruby tip of Saitou's cigarette glared defiantly in the face of darkness. The reddish shadows cut deeply into the angles of his face. He was alone again. He was in silence again. 

Tokio wouldn't approve of his smoking indoors. It was unhealthy for the children, she had said. If he wanted to kill himself slowly, then he could very well do it alone. 

Funny, that girl had complained about his habit too. 

He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs and seep out between the seal of his lips. So Himura and he were in the same place. Was it coincidence? Perhaps, but then he had never put much faith in the random chaos of the universe. Whatever it was, it wasn't fate and it wasn't chance. Wherever chance existed, humans always played the hand. Someone powerful was playing a game of chess with his life. The thought disturbed him, angered him. 

He was no one's unwitting pawn. He might play the tamed hound, but he was a wolf. He followed only as long as his ends coincided with those of his 'masters'. He had no qualms about biting the hand that fed him. 

***

Click

"I heard an interesting rumor the other day."

"Okay…"

"It seems that you had quite the adventure. I heard you sleepwalked again."

"Yes."

"You haven't done that for some time. Do you know what brought it about?"

"No."

"Are you feeling well? Is everything alright at home?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't know. Why don't you tell me why you think I would think that?"

"I'm perfectly fine. I don't know why I…I thought I was better. I thought…"

"Yes?"

"I thought I was almost normal."

"Normal?"

"You know, not crazy? I wanted—want—to be sane. I don't want to sleepwalk, or have nightmares or be crazy. I want to be normal…I want to be loved…"

"What was that last part? You trailed off and I couldn't hear you."

"Loved. I want someone to love me."

"Do you feel unloved?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I just feel so alone. It's like I'm living in an empty castle. All the halls echo, but its only my footsteps."

"Do you think love is the opposite of loneliness?"

"It has to be, doesn't it?"

"You tell me."

"It just has to be. When you're loved, you can't possibly be alone. It must be nice."

"Why don't you want to be alone?"

"I am alone. I don't like it."

Click

~

Click

"What about this person you are attractive to?"

"What about him?"

"You said he doesn't lo—"

"He does."

"Oh?"

"But like a…a…little kid, a sister or something. That's not what I want. I want the real thing. I want love between two consensual adults. Sparks, explosions, love!"

"So you feel that 'love' will free you from the loneliness you say you feel?"

"I told you this last time. Weren't you listening? You sure took a lot of notes."

"Indulge me."

"Yes, okay? I do. I don't care if that's stupid sounding or whatever. I believe in it."

"I never said it sounded stupid."

"You didn't have to."

"Let's change the subject. Any more thoughts on what caused you to sleepwalk the other night?"

"I don't know. One minute I was in my bed, the next I was…not in my bed."

"Did you have any dreams?"

"No…"

"Well?"

"Fine! It was that same damned dream from before."

"The one with the flowers."

"Poppies. Yeah, it was that one. Except…"

"Except?"

"Can I have some water or something?"

"Certainly…"

Click

~

Click

"I can't stand it!"

"What can't you stand?"

"_Her_. She's always there. I can feel her every time he looks at me. I just want him to see _me_ and not _her_. Did you know that he keeps her picture in his room? She watches over him while he sleeps…"

"You went into his room?"

"I'm not stalking him! We live…"

"Yes?"

"Nothing. Nothing."

"Could I bring your attention back to the dream you mentioned. You said there was something different about it?"

"Yes."

"Would you like to talk with me about it?"

"What does it matter?"

"I'm trying to help you. You said that you didn't want to sleepwalk or have nightmares anymore."

"Then why aren't I better already? I lived here for three years. I want to go Outside."

"That's what we all want. I'll prescribe a powerful sedative. They should prevent any midnight rambles. Plus you'll wake up feeling refreshed."

"Drugs?"

"Some find them helpful. We want to explore all our options so that you can leave, right?"

"I guess."

"Good. I'll write a prescription and you can get it filled at the pharmacy around the corner."

"Thanks."

"You are very welcome. I'll see you next week."

****

The glory of an update! Is it enough incentive for a review or two? La, anyway, I expect this to be quite a long series. Please have patience with my fumbling and whatnot. And thank you all who have read and who have reviewed. I am in your debt. 

So please review and save your flames for my email at SylverSylph@aol.com 


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